Yellow
by ornamental-reciprocity
Summary: The path of a maiden is not a kind one. There is always sacrifice, and pain, and unwanted frienship. But when the yellow maiden is at last called to duty there is only one path left: a war to end all wars. A twist on the "sucked into Hyrule" idea.
1. Chapter 1

I don't know when I first realized that something was wrong. It was more of a bunch of little things that tipped me off, not a sudden moment of reckoning. The blankets felt a little too scratchy, and my neck was pressed up against something hard. The room was too bright, and the light seeped under my eyelids. The air smelt funny. I can distinctly remember all of the tiny sensations, the little weird feelings that created prickles of nervousness in my stomach. All this happened before I opened my eyes, before I was fully conscious.

By the time my eyelids slammed open, the seeds of full blown panic were blossoming inside of me. When I was younger, I used to have dreams about falling, where I'd wake up and for a moment I could still feel the air whistling past me and I'd open my eyes and look around for the fast approaching ground. This felt a lot like those dreams. I snapped my eyes open, feeling breathless, confused, awaiting impact.

There was no collision, but there might as well have been. At first, the morning light was blinding. The windows in the room were huge and high, so my first impression of the room was one of brightness. The glass panes interspersed with intricate, curving iron supports invited the light into every corner. The room was circular and the floor was made of a light blue, glassy tile. High above me towered a domed ceiling. There was little furniture and it was well dispersed to give the impression of openness and freedom. Heaven.

I screamed. Loudly. I heard a little gasp in response and the sound of something heavy crashing to the ground.

"What in the name of the Goddesses?" a girl shouted. The voice was low and angry, but I was too scared to care. I had attempted to throw off my blankets and stand up, but in my rush, I had only tangled myself up further.

"I think she's awake," another girl chimed in. This voice was higher and airy. I looked around, breathing heavily, letting a string of obscenities that I hadn't realized I knew flow out of my mouth. By the time I turned around successfully, the two girls were standing and facing me.

The taller of the two can only be described in one word: white. Her skin was pale; her hair and poofy dress were pure white. Even her eyes were the lightest shade of blue imaginable, almost clear. In the bright sunlight she looked positively luminescent. It was disconcerting and kind of Cinderella-ish at the same time, like looking at a spirit or a ghost made solid. My eyes hurt a little bit just to look at her. She stared at me with a confused expression, but I could see her strain to keep a hesitant sort of smile on her face.

Beside her stood a shorter girl rubbing her head painfully and glaring at me beneath heavy eyebrows. Much like her friend, she wore a formal red dress to match her hair. With her round cheeks flushed in anger, she looked kind of like a tomato. An angry tomato with a welt on her forehead. In a strange way, maybe it was the dresses, the girls seemed to match, like they were part of a set. Even before I knew who they were, and the great significance attached to their dresses, their hair, and their every movement, I felt like something isolated them.

In spite of everything, the first words out of my mouth were vaguely coherent, if a bit of an odd choice.

"Do you all dress like that?"

The white girl's smile faded and gave way to a slightly fearful expression. The red girl just continued rubbing her head angrily. "Heavens, you're loud," she told me, "You know that?"

I backed up a little bit from the strange, matching girls. "Never thought about it." Looking back, I must say that I am impressed by my own ability to continue speaking, even though my brain was spinning out of control. Internally, I couldn't even organize my thoughts into a decent escape plan.

"Perhaps you ought to," the red girl answered. "Ow, my head."

The white girl smiled wryly and answered, "Perhaps you ought to take more care to not fall a couch next time." Her friend just glared and lightly elbowed her. The two exchanged half-joking glares with each other. I couldn't quite tell if they were friends.

The white girl looked back at me, where I stood. Under her stare, I could feel my legs shake. It wasn't just a light tremor in my knees; it was a shaking that traveled all the way to my ankles. It was a wonder I was still standing. The girl just looked at me more, with a pensive expression on her face.

"You look confused," the white girl said, acknowledging me at last.

"Confused," I answered, barely understanding

"Believe me, I understand. I know this must seem sudden."

"Sudden?" I asked. "Sudden?"

"But we couldn't wait any longer. There was no other way."

"Other way?"

The red girl rolled her eyes. "Do you ever say anything but the last thing you hear? Oh, brilliant. The last maiden and she's got no more brains than a parrot."

Finally, I shook myself out of my reverie long enough to ask, "What? Who? Who are you?"

"The maidens," the white girl answered slowly, softly. "Protectors of the ancient seal."

"The ancient seal? What the Hell are you talking about?"

The girl walked towards me. "Come, sit. I will explain." She reached out towards my arm.

"Don't touch me!" I screamed, shoving her away.

"Hey," the red maiden cried, storming up to me. "Don't you touch her like that!" She reached out to grab me. Without thinking, I punched her in the nose. I had only ever punched one person once, when I was six and I punched my brother. It didn't prepare me for what it felt like to feel a person's flesh give way under your hand. There was a crunching noise, as something hard cracked, and I heard her scream, more in rage than in pain. I didn't know I could punch so hard. Then again, I had never tried.

There was blood on my hand when I pulled it away. _Red blood for the red maiden_, I thought, vaguely. _She really does match_. Then, I saw her face, which, between the blood, the start of the swelling, and the rage in her eyes, was enough to bring me back to my senses. I started to run. I don't know where I was intending to go. Just away, to where the red girl couldn't reach me. The round room opened up into a large hallway, with any number of doors coming off of it. Whatever this place was, it was big. And expensive. Amidst the blue tiling, there was solid gold trim expertly worked into the walls and the floors. Jewels and ornaments lay about, unguarded.

I took the first turn that I reached and sprinted as fast as I could, which was depressingly slowly. As I ran, I made a silent vow to myself that I would start endurance training, or something, if only I could escape these so called maidens.

But the girls were fast. Faster than me at any rate. In spite of her broken nose, the red maiden was almost at my heels, reaching out to grab at me. Her hand was within inches of my hair. She would have succeeded, too, if her counterpart, hadn't pulled her arm away with a sharp glare. Behind me, the footsteps suddenly stopped. I wrenched my head around, still running, to see what had happened. The two had stopped in their tracks and were staring into each other's eyes. Slowly, the red girl nodded.

Inwardly, I prayed that this meant that they were giving up. I redoubled my efforts to run, but the sharp pangs of a cramp were beginning to bother me.

"Stop! You have to listen," the white girl shouted to me from where she stood, while she was still within earshot.

"No way in Hell," I responded, and ran, though I could feel myself slowing down. _An exit_, I thought, _there's got to be an exit_. But this particular hallway was just as long as the last, and it didn't even have any windows to help guide me. There were five doors that I could see lining the walls, each almost identical. At the end of this hallway, the path branched into three separate directions. This entire place was built like a labyrinth. If you didn't have the layout of this building memorized, you'd never find your way around.

It wasn't long before I ran into the first of the Maiden's Guards, waiting calmly around a corner. I would later come to recognize them by the blue symbols on their uniform, their brisk professionalism, and the fear that always hung in their eyes. For now, however, all I recognized was two men with spears, who reached out to grab my arms. I must have screamed more, but I don't remember. I can recall struggling, or trying to struggle, but failing miserably. Their grips were tight on my upper arm. Perhaps it was a sign of hysteria, but all I could think about was whether or not that could cut off the circulation. I twisted my arm around, trying to loosen the grasp. I was just being stupid, really. They were far larger than I was, and they were trained at this.

Then I could hear her light footsteps. It was the white maiden, again, slowly walking down the hallway, but she looked somehow different. She carried herself higher, prouder, her shoulders back and her eyes steely. She approached fearlessly, and I saw one of the guards shift uncomfortably, just a little, although she was shorted than him by at least a foot and a half.

When she behaved like this, it was eerie. She already looked ghostlike, but now she carried herself like a queen. She could have passed for the specter of some long dead royalty. She nodded to the guards.

"Release her and leave us," she said simply, quietly. The guards obeyed instantaneously. Dropping my arms they saluted and retreated hastily. It was amazing and terrifying to see the respect that this girl, who looked only about eighteen, could garner.

"Who are you?" I asked, backing up slowly, trying to subtly edge away.

"I can call them back you know," she told me, authoritatively, and I stopped walking. She breathed deeply for a moment, closing her eyes and exhaling.

As I stood there and watched her, her eyes softened and her body relaxed. They were subtle changes. Her shoulders lowered just a little and her face assumed a tranquil expression. But the change was remarkable. She looked approachable now, almost friendly, like a girl, not a queen. I was relieved to watch the changes. This girl could be scary.

"You must listen to me," she told me, "You cannot leave until you do."

"You can't keep here," I answered, although I knew full well that she could. "I have rights." It sounded stupid even as it came out of my mouth. The girl just considered me, strangely, before choosing to ignore my outburst.

"I am the white maiden. The maidens guard the seal, binding the ancient wind sorcerer. We maintain peace and equilibrium. You are the descendant of a maiden, and as such, this is your calling," she said simply, as though this should have been obvious all along. "Do you understand?"

There was silence. "Yes," I answered slowly, "I think I do." Silence. "I've gone insane, haven't I?"

"No! This is your calling. You feel it. You are a maiden. You are-"

"Let me guess," I said, casting an offhand glance at my braided blond hair. "The yellow maiden."

"Exactly," she said, sounding hopeful.

"Spare me the bullshit," I shouted, my voice high with hysteria. I danced around her as I talked, waving my hands. "You, you come in here, with your guards, and your stupid dresses, and your talk about maidens and sorcerers, and you want me to believe you? Well there are a hundred better explanations. I'm dreaming. Yes, that's it. Or I'm in a coma and this is what my brain's come up with to pass the time. Or I took some kind of drug, and you guys are just a weird hallucination. Or maybe, just maybe, I've lost my mind."

"You haven't lost your mind. If you'll listen and think about it, you'll know what I'm saying is true."

"It is not true, because you are not saying anything. You do not exist. You're not real. None of this is real." I threw my fist again the wall. I half expected it to plunge straight through and prove my point. Instead, my knuckles landed painfully against it and a shock traveled up my arm "Ow," I acknowledged painfully, nursing my right fist.

"I must say, you're the first maiden to react this badly." I just bit my lip and glared. She sighed. "Look, I won't keep you prisoner or anything like that. But if you won't acknowledge your past, I don't know what I can do."

"You can disappear," I told her frankly, "Go away and don't come back."

"Please, just try!"

"No!" Silence again.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked. "I can't change the truth. If I could, I would. You are who you are, and that's the yellow maiden."

"I am nothing you say I am. I'm Ella, okay? I'm seventeen, and I like math, and I don't know a God damn thing about sorcerers and seals and whatever."

"Listen to me."

"Shut up!"

She sighed once more, this time in resignation, and reached into her pocket, removing a purple gemstone. "If you really want to leave, go. I can't stop you."

"Thank you," I exclaimed, exasperated.

"But take this. It's worth fifty rupees. When you leave the palace, take your next right. Pass three streets and then take a left. There's an inn, called Eldicott. It's run by a woman named Bea, and it has a reputable clientele. You'll be safe there."

"Safe? From what?"

She gave me a piercing look and looked as though she were about the say something. Finally, she just shrugged. "From the streets."

I nodded slowly.

"This," she gestured to the gemstone, "will pay for a meal and night's stay in a private room. That's thirty five for the room, five for the meal, with ten left over." She ran her fingers through her hair and thought for a minute. "That would be paid in one yellow rupee. Or two blues. Or maybe even ten greens. Don't let them cheat you just because you're new out there."

She handed me the gemstone and I fingered it lightly."You're really just letting me leave. Just like that?"

"There's a lot I wish I could teach you, before you go into the world."

"I can handle myself."

"Can you?" she asked. As much as I hated to admit it, I had never been alone before, unless you counted sleepovers down the block. That's one thing about growing up in the suburbs. You're always safe.

"Sure," I answered, but my voice shook just a little.

"Confidence," she whispered, "The key is confidence. Act like you know exactly what you're doing and why. And if Bea gives you any trouble, tell her that Lara sent you."

"Who's Lara?" I asked. She didn't answer, but I could tell from her face that that was a stupid question. I had been talking to Lara all along. "Oh."

She squinted in concentration once more, and then looked at me regretfully. It looked as though this were paining her, as though she could cry."Keep your money close to you, and look after it. And be careful. I'll call a guard to escort you out. Are you sure you won't stay?" I nodded and waited for her to shout out to the men, but instead she stood silently for a moment. Before long, I could hear the footfalls of the men in armor. Glancing over at her, looking for some sort of signal she could have given them, instead I saw that she had straightened up once more. She stood again like a queen of some kind and I did a double-take trying to see how that had happened.

When the men rounded the corner, Lara simply nodded to them. They knew their orders, somehow, and took their places on either side of me. As we started to walk away, I twisted my head around to see Lara, dignified and erect, as stone-faced as a statue.

* * *

The new yellow maiden and the guards had long since turned the corners by the time the red maiden showed up. "Where is she?" the girl asked, fuming. The maidens each carried with her a charm that activated when they were hurt, summoning any healers or guards in the vicinity. Her broken nose had turned on the charm, and the onslaught of medics had kept her occupied for the last few minutes. Granted, she was grateful that her nose was no longer broken. The pain was gone and the swelling had disappeared, although her nose was still bright red. All the same, she would have liked to have caught up with the future yellow maiden.

"She's gone," Lara responded calmly, watching her friend. "Your nose looks better."

"Never mind my nose, where has she gone? How did the guards lose her?"

"They didn't lose her. They caught her and we spoke."

"And then what? She didn't hurt you, did she?" the red maiden asked, her voice growing dangerous.

"Asa, I'm fine," Lara answered, almost laughingly. "I couldn't keep her here. She wasn't responding well. She convinced herself that I don't actually exist. Strange girl."

"So you let her leave? Just like that? We spent a year trying to call her here, we finally bring her and you just let her out the door! Lara, what were you thinking?"

"Her world has just been turned upside down. You can't expect her to accept it overnight," Lara answered defensively.

"Lara, the seal is weakening. Every day more. If that thing breaks, chaos will spread over all of Hyrule. Everyone will suffer, not just us. And you expect me to sympathize with one little girl who doesn't know where she fits in the world?" Asa answered, almost screaming. Lara gently waved her hand, trying to lower the volume of her voice. The guards would hear soon.

"Shhh… Listen. The path of a maiden is not a kind one. This girl has had no preparation for this. It's worse for her than it was for any of us. You of all people should know what it's like, Asa."

Asa calmed down and quietly spoke. "The day I found out I was the red maiden was the worst day of my life."

"Exactly. Now think of what it's like for her. She had never even heard of us. I'm sure her mother saw to that."

Her friend nodded and stamped her foot. "Goddesses damn that Silke. Silke and all her followers."

Lara laughed a little, before the smile faded from her face. "Indeed. But if we kept the girl here, against her will, she'd turn out just like Silke. She'd hate us, and do everything she could to stop us. We need her to come to us, to join us. And that's why I had to let her leave. She has to meet this land, and love this land as you and I do. She must want to protect it before she comes back. That's the only way we'll earn her loyalty."

Asa looked sadly at her friend. "Lara. I know why you did what you did, but we don't have time for that. The seal keeps growing weaker, we don't have much time."

Scoffing, Lara responded. "There hasn't been a full organized council of maidens for a thousand years, maybe more. I know that the seal feels weak, but we have nothing to compare it to. We don't know how fast it's breaking. It might not open for centuries."

"Or it might break tomorrow."

"There's no need to panic."

"Lara," Asa began, "You know that I'm right. I see your mind. I know you can feel it coming. The townspeople feel it too. There's an agitation beneath the surface, a palpable and growing fear. Whatever's coming, it's coming soon and it's going to end badly."

"Maybe, Asa, only maybe."

Asa just shook her head. "Where did you send the girl? Or did you just turn her loose in the city?"

"I sent her to Bea's place."

"Endicott Inn?"

"Yes."

"You think she'll be safe there?"

"As safe as anywhere. And if there's anybody in the whole world who inspires love, it's Bea. She's a mother to us all."

With a tiny smile, Asa nodded. "Maybe you're right. Maybe there is hope, after all." The smile grew, "But only maybe," she teased.

Her friend whipped around to see Asa already running down the hall. She took up the chase, laughing a little. They vanished from the hallway, making tracks towards the big round room, the only sanctuary left for the maidens.

* * *

And thus ends chapter one.

I must admit, I was rather nervous about posting this. Part of the reason I wrote this is that I wanted to prove that you could do a "sucked into the story" type thing and still have it turn out okay. Also, this was weirdly inspired by a dream about a chair and a hotel room. You'll see why (sort of) in the next chapter.

Anyway, I thought that I'd take a pretty minor character for this idea, because I didn't want to screw with too much in the original story. I figured that the maidens are sufficiently minor, in that they don't get names, or personalities, nor are they designated as characters by this fan fiction "select the main character" bar thing (you know what I mean). Also, the most you ever find out about any of them is that at some point the blue maiden lived in a village. So, I figure, that gives me a lot of room to work.

I hope that you've enjoyed chapter one, and should have chapter two up very soon.

-Ornamental-Reciprocity


	2. Chapter 2

I blinked as I first stepped outside. The sun was bright overhead. It must have been close to noon. After a few moments, my eyes adjusted to the light and I saw the city. And my first, brilliant, eloquently phrased thought was 'holy shit!' It was seeing the city for the first time that really drove home the reality of my situation. The place was big. Not big like a normal city, with sky scrapers and office buildings, and roads that go for miles, but large. I didn't think that my brain could invent something this complicated.

From where I stood, I got a nice overhead view of much of the city. It wasn't very well organized. There were homes next to shops, next to fountains, next to stables. Every road was twisted and bent. No logic to it at all. I didn't like that. Most everything was built from wood, except for some of the roofs, which were built with clay tiles. There was no real color scheme to the city either, so everything looked like someone had taken a rainbow, shoved it in a blender, and then dropped it all over the town. The place was bright, and it seemed to me as though it ought to look cheery. It didn't. The people walked just a little too quickly, looked down just a little too much. It was as though some invisible, dark cloud had descended over all of them. And I would have to walk through it. I shuddered involuntarily at the thought.

I turned around to get a quick look at the building I had come from and gasped. I had gotten a sense of how large and ornate it was from the inside, but the outside was just stunning. I could only see a portion of the building, but what I saw was a gleaming monolith of white stone. Everything about the palace shown with majesty, and its stature dwarfed the other buildings. Around the walls there was a radius of about thirty yards, in which no other buildings were constructed, almost as though even the houses wanted to escape the cruel façade of the palace. I shuddered once more and took a step away.

I half-expected one of the guards to stop me, or follow me, or something, but the pair simply turned around and re-entered the palace. They didn't care in the slightest about me. With quickened pace, I set about to put some distance between me and the maiden's home.

Not much time passed before I noticed that people were staring at me. For a few moments, I thought that it was because I had come from that cursed castle. I didn't blame them for staring. That place was conspicuous, to say the least. But after I continued to attract stares, even stares from children, even after I had walked away, I realized how stupid I had been.

Jeans and a tee shirt. Clothes I had always felt comfortable in. Never before seen in that town. I don't know why I had never considered it before. The maidens had worn dresses and the guards had worn full mail. I should have realized that this town had a medieval streak to it. There were whispers around me as I tried to follow Lara's advice.

_Confidence_, she had said, _the key is confidence_. Confidence. Right. In the middle of nowhere, act like you belong. I could never do that.

I thought, distantly, of a time a few years ago. My family had taken a trip to Mexico and, like any spoiled tourist family, were spending one night in Mexico City to get the local flavor, before moving on to the resort complex. Before we left the airport, my parents had filled my head with warnings. Don't talk to strangers. Don't drink anything but bottled water. Don't leave our sight. Keep a tight watch on your money. And above all, act confident. Don't let everyone know you're a tourist. Act like you belong.

In spite of the warnings, or perhaps because of them, when I walked down the streets with my family I felt like everyone watched me. I felt helpless and weak, even as I clung in a tight group with my family, and clutched my wallet inside my pocket. I felt like I would never belong, like everyone knew that, and they were just waiting for me to stumble. That night the rest of my family decided to go out for dinner. I faked a stomach bug and stayed safe in the hotel room, eating crackers by myself.

Walking through the city the first time, dressed like a lunatic, I felt exactly the same. I just wanted to escape, to go someplace where I felt safe, like a hotel room I could lock myself inside of. But I didn't have a sanctuary to hide in any more, or even a family I could hold to. Instead, I had a giant castle behind me, filled with guards and creepy girls, and directions to a place I had never seen from a girl I didn't think I trusted.

And I had the streets. Lots of streets and lots of people, people I had never met. Subconsciously, I reached into my pocket and got a firm grip on the rupee that Lara had given me, so tight that my knuckles turned white. Then I took off running.

I followed Lara's directions as best as I could. It took a few wrong turns, and I bulldozed into one of two people, but I eventually found myself in front of Eldicott Inn, a rather rundown looking place, but with a few smiling faces that I could see through the window. I froze outside for a minute, but, thinking once more on the Mexico trip, finally decided to go in. If I got a room, then I could lock myself in it. I could make a sanctuary.

I pushed my shoulder against the door to open it. The wood was swollen and bent, so it took a little effort. Inside, the building was dark, but comfortable. A few people sat around, eating lunch or talking. I stood in the doorway a few minutes, feeling like I was disturbing the peace, before anyone noticed me. The one who finally saw me was a rather short, but broad woman in a blue, stained dress and an apron. She had been tending a fire with her long, brown hair loose around her face, dangling just centimeters above the flames. I winced, expecting the embers to leap up into her hair and burn her. But her movements were fluid and practiced and she looked perfectly comfortable around the flames. When she stood up to stretch her back, I could see her weathered face.

"Welcome!" she said in a loud voice, which turned a few curious heads in the room. I stood at the threshold, unwilling to go in closer. "Well, come in, come in. Shut the door. Make yourself at home." She threw open her arms as she talked and for a second I thought she was going to hug me. But she was merely welcoming me in, if in perhaps an unusually friendly way. I shut the door behind me as I gingerly crossed the floor towards her.

"Uh… hi?" I whispered quietly, and she couldn't quite hear.

"What was that? Come closer, girl, I can't make out a word." I edged a little closer, careful to stay by the door, just in case. "Closer," she insisted, but I shook my head. The woman shrugged and looked at me a little strangely, but she walked up to me to close the gap. "You alright?"

I nodded a little bit and breathed a few times before I spoke again. "Fine," I choked out. "I need to find Bea. I'm supposed to ask her… what I mean is… I need a room… for the night…"

She nodded. "Most people that come to inns do, in fact." She laughed a little and I just blushed. Stupid, I thought to myself. "I'm Bea. And that's forty-five rupees for the room."

"But Lara told me…"

The laughter died from Bea's face suddenly, and she grabbed my arm unusually tight. I started to pull back, but Bea's words interrupted me. "You know Lara?" she whispered softly, so I could barely hear. "What does she look like?"

"Umm… really, really pale. White hair. White everything, really," I answered just as quietly.

Bea's brow furrowed in curiosity. "That's right," she said. "And what is it that Lara wants, exactly?"

"She told me to get a room and dinner," I answered, looking at the woman's face in terror. "Please let go of me."

Bea looked down at her own hand, a little surprised to see that she had grabbed me. "Sorry," she said releasing me. "I didn't realize. And if that's all that Lara wants, I think I can oblige." When I didn't say anything she smiled at me, the first genuine smile since I had woken up. "Sorry if I scared you there. It's just it's best not to talk in public about that sort of thing. You can calm down, you know. I won't hurt you." She wrapped her arm around my shoulders. "The rooms are upstairs, just pick one you like. The first three on the left are occupied, but the rest are all open."

"Thanks," I said. I quickly thrust the rupee into her hand and took off at a fast pace towards the stairs. I didn't even wait for my change.

The room I chose was the only one without windows. I wanted to shut off myself from the world, as much as possible, and being able to see the city seemed contrary to that plan. The room itself was small and cramped. There were only a bed, a chair, and a small table inside, each of which were crudely crafted from a light colored wood. In spite of the sharp edges and darkness, the room seemed somehow cozy. Someone had covered the bed in a thick, pink quilt and placed a vase of watery-yellow colored flowers on the table. Quickly, I locked the door behind me, and made to sit on the bed. Then, I changed my mind, and jammed the chair under the doorknob, for extra security.

Finally, I could be sure that I was alone. The air was silent as I sat down on the bed. For a few moments, I was unsure what to do. I finally had my sanctuary, but it was empty of the comfort and I had expected. My parents and my brothers would not be coming home in a few hours. There was just me.

I curled up and cried. I hadn't intended to sob, at first. The tears just started rolling. I realized, as I lay down on the bed, how much I missed my family. In the chaos of the last hour or two, I hadn't had time to think about them. Now that I was alone and the room was quiet, I couldn't help but think of my two older brothers and my parents. More than anything, I wanted just one of them, to be there with me, to hold me and promise that it would all be ok.

"Mom," I whispered, "I'm scared." Of course, no answer came. I was alone. My sanctuary was empty.

I lay perfectly still on the bed for some time, apart from the occasional sob which set my shoulders shaking. The tears squeezed themselves from my eyes, forming a splotch of dark red on the pink fabric of the quilt. Finally, my eyes closed, and I dropped into a miserable sleep.

* * *

I woke up to a series of light knocks on the door. "You in there, honey?" a voice called out to me. "It's Bea. Will you let me in?"

I wavered a moment, as the sleepiness left me, before I stood up, unlocked the door, and pulled the chair away. Bea must have heard the scraping noises, because when I opened the door, she frowned suspiciously at the chair before looking back to me.

"Goodness, you look a mess," she told me. I could only imagine how I must look. My yellow braid had probably come loose, and my blue eyes were ringed with red from the tears. "Well, nothing like a hot meal to clear up that. I brought your dinner up. Could you let me in, now?"

She gestured, vaguely, with her head towards the heavy plates she was carrying with her. There were two of them, each balanced on the palm of her hand, as well as a pitcher of water which she held in the crook of her elbow. In a strange way, I had to admire her coordination.

I stepped aside to let her in, and she rushed over to the table, laying down her burden. "Oh thank the goddesses. Those plates were hot. Now then," she began, turning towards me. "It's traditional to come downstairs to the dining room to eat dinner. But, since you went to sleep at just past noon, I figured that you were in no mood to sit in the middle of a busy bar. Now then, tuck in."

I walked forward to the table and made to pick up the fork, when Bea gave me a little wink. "The chair, dear?"

I jerked a little bit and ran over hastily to grab the chair. "Oh, right," I told her, embarrassed. I waited for her to laugh at my spastic behavior, but instead she just smiled.

"You don't have to be so scared," she told me, as I sat down and began to eat. I hadn't realized that I was hungry until the first bite touched my lips. There was a large piece of roasted chicken and warm soup. Somehow, I didn't want the food to taste as good as it did. I didn't want to like something about this place, as if I were betraying my home. But the meal was incredible, and I ate it fast enough to pose a choking hazard.

"There's a good girl," Bea said, quietly. "A full stomach makes everything better." Without asking, she reached up and began to unbraid my hair, humming softly all the while. I would have felt uncomfortable, except that Bea was so much like a mother. She was warm and soft and she made me want to trust her. I needed a mother.

A few stray tears fell. I let her brush out my hair and wipe my eyes. The meal over, Bea pulled me from my chair and directed me, gently, to the bed. She pulled off the covers and tucked me in, like a mother for a child. I started crying harder.

"Shh," she whispered. "It'll be alright." Her face was strained with concern for me. It was touching, in a strange way, to see how much she cared for an utter stranger.

"Tell me what happened," Bea urged, "With Lara."

I nodded, anxious to have a friend. For a few moments, I gathered my breath before I told her, "I think that girl's insane."

Bea laughed a little at that. "You and most of the world. How did you meet her?"

"I just woke up in the middle of the big palace. She and another girl, a red one, were there. They spouted off some nonsense about maidens, and then Lara sent me here. That's all."

"And Lara told you here name?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"It's just… you're not from here, I take it?"

"No. Nowhere close."

"Then you wouldn't know. The maidens are a secretive group. Just a mere glimpse of a maiden is enough to inspire awe and fear." I thought of Lara's countenance and of the guard's reaction to her bearing, feeling that I understood.

"Most people don't know what the maiden's powers are, exactly. But they fear them all the same," Bea continued.

"They said something about protecting an ancient seal."

"Ah… then you already know more about them than most of Hyrule. You see, the maidens are very isolated. The seal that they guard protects Hyrule from a great menace. But that is an old legend, and very few remember it. Most don't know that the maidens serve the people. Some think that they simply live like leeches in their palace, feeding off of the toil of the commoners. Others fear that they practice dark magic, preparing to enslave the world. Very few know the truth, or care to learn it."

"So the people fear the maidens?"

"No. The maidens want to be feared. It is only through terror and awe that they keep control. It's a delicate balance, between power and cruelty, but the maidens uphold it. They have to remain separate and aloof to keep up this image."

"Hence the giant palace."

"Exactly. But there is more than just space involved. Everything about the maidens is carefully designed to instill respect. Even their outfits. They wear those dresses for a reason. It is the symbol of everything that sets them apart."

In spite of myself, the story was beginning to intrigue me. Bea's words explained so much of the girls' behavior. "So people recognize those dresses?"

"They recognize the dresses more than they do the women that wear them."

"But why do the maiden's need such total control? Couldn't they guard the seal and still live like normal people?"

"That is a question you will have to ask them. I am close to Lara, but I am not privy to all the maiden's secrets."

A heavy silence weighed in the air for a moment, before I asked, "Why were you surprised that I knew Lara's name?"

Bea sighed. "A maiden's name is her greatest secret. The public know them only by their colors. It's part of the air of mystery that they keep. Because of that, knowing a maiden's name is like having a secret password, among those who know it."

"Oh." I couldn't think of anything else to say, and could not help but wonder why Lara chose to entrust me with this knowledge.

"Well now," Bea began, brightening slightly, "that's all I can give you for a history lesson, I think. This is not my area of expertise. No, I was built for the kitchen and the dining room, not the halls of history. And besides, I've left the bar unattended for a half hour now."

"Please don't leave me." With Bea beside me, I found that me fear had begun to calm itself, but as she started to stand up it returned full force.

"Oh, honey. I'll be right downstairs if you need me. I promise, you'll be just fine." She kissed me once on the forehead and started to leave the room.

Impulsively, I called out to her. "I'm Ella. Just so you know."

Bea smiled as she opened the door. "Well then, goodnight, Ella."

She took a step outside, and then turned back. "And just so you know. The locks on the doors work just fine." She gestured to the chair. "I wouldn't bother with that next time."

I smiled a little as she shut the door. Closing my eyes, I determined not to get up and replace the chair.

* * *

One more down. It's a little bit shorter this time, but only because this was the best cut-off point I could find for a while. Sorry that this chapter was maybe a little slow moving. So to cheer things up at the end, I have included a random fact (I like random facts):

Odontophobia is the fear of teeth.

And that's all for me. Till next time.

-Ornamental Reciprocity


	3. Chapter 3

When I woke up, there was a dress draped across the chair. It was a plain affair, solid brown with a low waist, fairly rough to the touch. But it was a dress, something everyone would be used to seeing, which no one would think about. It would buy me precious anonymity. Hurriedly, I discarded my old clothes and slipped the dress on. Then I noticed that on the table was a little note, on a folded-up piece of paper.

Bea's handwriting was a neat, little scrawl, which read, 'I had this old thing just lying around, and it doesn't fit me anymore. So I figured that you could probably use it more than me. Enjoy.'

I smiled at the innkeeper's words and turned my attention back to the dress. It was a bit too wide and a tiny bit too short, but all the same it felt better to blend in with my surroundings. In fact, everything looked a bit better in the morning light. I don't know why. I was just as helpless and lost and confused. But for some reason I felt hopeful, too.

There were no shoes to accompany the dress, so I would have to wear my sneakers. But still, it was preferable. I balled up my old clothes and hastily attempted to comb my hair with my fingers. I wanted to thank Bea for everything that she had done for me last night, and I wanted to look vaguely presentable when I did.

I carefully walked downstairs, savoring my sudden, unexplained optimism. I didn't know how long it would last, but I would enjoy it while it did. Bea was in the main dining room, serving up breakfast to the few customers who were awake.

"Hey," I called as I walked up to her. She looked at me and smiled.

"Feeling better?"

"Yes. Much. I just wanted to say thanks. For everything."

"Don't think twice about it. I'll get you something to eat." Bea sauntered off, leaving me to think that she must have an extremely dominant "feed-people" gene. When she returned, she carried a plate with a thick piece of warm bread and a cooked egg. She directed me to the table and placed the meal in front of me. I started eating without a second thought.

Bea gingerly took the seat in front of me, and as she opened her mouth, I saw her countenance darken. Bad news, I thought.

"Tell me, Ella. Where are you going from here?"

I looked at the table for a moment, somewhat shamed that I hadn't considered this. For some strange reason, I had thought that I would simply stay there. I had taken Bea's hospitality for granted. She was kind, and all, but she had a business to run.

"I don't really know," I admitted. The maidens would want me back, but no way was I going back there.

Bea sighed. "I was afraid of that. Listen, in six days a royal party is coming to the city. When that happens, the whole town fills up, like it's a holiday. My inn will be booked solid. But, until then, I can give you a temporary job here. Six days. It's not much, but you'll have a roof over your head and food in your belly. Interested?"

The words that came out of my mouth were a haphazard flow of gratitude. Six days seemed like a lifetime, and I would gladly stay as close to this warm woman as I could. I doubt that I was coherent as I thanked her profusely, but she seemed to get the message of my agreement.

"Excellent," she told me. "What do you know about washing dishes?"

I smiled. On the whole I was a spoiled child. Most of my chores revolved around cleaning my room every now and then. But, surprisingly, I had experience with washing dishes after a small accident when my Dad, thinking he had mechanical skills, set out to fix our dishwasher, ruining both the appliance and half of the floor in the process. I was glad to know that I would, at least, be competent at the tasks Bea gave me.

As it turns out, Eldicott Inn had a lot of dishes and they piled up very quickly. I had never washed a dish before under such time pressure, and I found myself sloshing water all over my skirt in an effort to keep up. Washing dishes had always seemed like a very relaxing activity to me, but now it seemed like a race.

Working with me in the kitchen were two regular employees. One was a girl about my age, who dried the dishes with such a cool efficiency that I couldn't help but envy her. She was quiet and fast, with straight brown hair and dark eyes. She told me once that her name was Emy, and didn't speak again. The other employee was a rather sharp-tongued old cook, who thought herself quite clever for having coined her own nickname: Cook. In contrast to Emy's thin stature, Cook seemed to take up all of the space in the kitchen, and she was always quick to yell at both of us. But Bea's very presence would quickly put her back in her place, so I didn't mind her much.

I threw myself into the work, with utter devotion. I don't know if I was just anxious to prove to myself that I wasn't worthless, that I could survive here. Or maybe I was trying to convince Bea to let me stay. Nonetheless, I devoted myself, wholeheartedly to the dishes, and when the dishes ran low, to sweeping to floor or cleaning the tables.

All the same, it appeared that I had been overconfident. As much as I tried, I found that I could not match Emy's incredible working pace or live up to Cook's standards. Every few minutes, I would check over my shoulder, for some indication of approval. There were none.

By the end of dinner, I found that my knees were aching from standing so long. My feet were sore and my hands and arms felt raw from being submerged in water for hours. As I dried my hands for the last time, I stretched my shoulders out, trying to get rid of the horrible knot that had grown there. Emy gathered herself, put the last dishes away and fled from the kitchen, presumably to go home.

Cook watched me stretch and shook her head. "Haven't you ever washed a dish before?"

"I have," I answered defensively.

"Sure doesn't look like it. You've never worked a day in your life, have you?"

"No, I have. I do. I work hard," I protested, thinking about the hours I devoted daily to school, only to realize how utterly useless the hard earned knowledge was in a situation like this.

"I doubt it," she snorted as she left. "Spoiled brat."

That night I planned out my strategy to attack the dishes the next morning. I would show her, I thought to myself. For the first time, I found myself thinking that I could do this.

* * *

Four days later, Bea peered through the kitchen at her latest employee. She had to hand it to the girl. She was a skinny-armed thing, but she sure tried. And she had improved greatly. Ella worked much faster. She was louder and much less timid around the customers. Once or twice, Bea had even heard her laugh. Bea smiled. She had seen this happen before. Cook could inspire anyone to accomplish anything, through pure spite if necessary. She watched as Ella scraped a pot clean with a fury. Spite was a powerful motivator.

The door to the inn opened and Bea turned away from the kitchen to welcome the newcomer. She had made her reputation by welcoming each and every person who crossed the threshold, no exceptions, so her personal thoughts had to wait.

The visitor wore a light brown dress and a red kerchief, but Bea recognized her all the same. She walked forward and Bea beckoned her upstairs without a word. She followed the innkeeper out of sight, attracting a few confused stares from customers who noticed Bea's odd behavior. But no one would guess who they had really just seen.

Once Bea and the girl were safely upstairs and hidden, Bea turned back to her and said, "Lara. It's good to see you."

Lara smiled, and pulled off her kerchief, revealing her pure white hair. "And you. It's harder to get out of the palace these days. But, in some ways that's nice. A kerchief and a different dress and no one so much as recognizes you."

"Indeed. So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" As much as Bea loved Lara, she could not help but be the least bit suspicious of her presence. A visit from the white maiden was rare, but in light of Ella's appearance, Bea doubted that Lara had arrived just to be friendly.

"I'm sure you know."

"It's about Ella, isn't it?" Bea asked. She used the girl's name deliberately, to prove to Lara that Ella trusted her. That she wasn't about to give her up, even to another friend.

"Yes." Lara paused and reached into her pocket. "I brought you some money, to pay for the girl's upkeep."

She handed the innkeeper a few purple rupees. Bea took them in her hand and considered them suspiciously. "You don't need to pay for her," she protested, "Ella's earning her keep."

"Take the money anyway. There are dark times ahead. It can't hurt to keep a nest egg."

Bea nodded slowly and pocketed the money. "Thanks, Lara. We may not always see eye to eye, but you are a good friend."

"You too, Bea. And I don't want to hurt you."

Bea closed her eyes and asked, "What do you need?"

"How much did Ella tell you?"

"Only a little bit. But you didn't tell her too much either, did you? I had to explain who you guys were to the poor dear. She was frightened out of her wits."

"I know Bea," Lara sighed. "Do you ever feel like you're fighting a losing battle?"

Bea smiled sadly. "Almost every day."

For a moment, a poignant silence hung heavy in the air, like a curtain between them. Then Lara finally told Bea, "Ella is my losing battle. She won't acknowledge it, but she is the heir to the yellow maiden's legacy. We need her, and she won't listen to us. I don't know what to do."

"Have you tried talking to her?"

"I tried, but I had to threaten to call the guards to keep her still. And then she panicked, and it was all lost."

"Can you blame her?" Bea asked, looking into Lara's eyes, seemingly amused.

"No. I can't. But there's no other way. We need her, and only her."

"You'll just have to give her time."

"We don't have any time to give!"

"What do you mean?" Bea asked suspiciously.

"Haven't you noticed? I think most people have, even if they won't acknowledge it. There's a darkness, falling slowly over everything. Crops are dying. Animals are falling sick. And people are starting to panic. They may not realize it yet, but they dread something that's coming. Soon."

"This is about that seal of yours, isn't it?"

"Yes. I think it's cracking. And we need Ella to seal it again."

"But aren't five maidens enough?"

"No. Five maidens can slow down its decay, but we need a full council of six to repair it. We need Ella."

"So why did you come to me? What do want me to do?" Bea asked solemnly.

* * *

The kitchen was busier than ever. I stood with my back hunched over a tub of water, scrubbing at a large pot furiously.

"Damn soup," I muttered to myself, "Get burnt and stick to the bottom of the pot, will you? I'll show you." My elbow ached as I scraped at the iron with my nails. Emy smiled a little bit as she watched me struggle. I shrugged when I caught her eye. She was a nice girl, I decided, if a bit quiet.

This whole place was nice. Comforting. In the five days since I first woke up, I hadn't found another place which felt so much like a home. It was amazing how fast I found a routine. Amazing how good it felt to be comfortable somewhere.

I refused to think about what would happen when the six days were up. I prayed, and half convinced myself that when Bea saw how hard I worked and how dedicated I was, how desperately I needed this, she would let me stay. For the first time, I thought that I could make a life here.

That's not to say that memories of home didn't still hurt. At night, when it was quiet, it was easy to remember just how alone I was. With nothing to occupy my mind, I would think about everyone I loved, who I would never see again, and then I would fall back into my depression.

But when it was daytime, and my hands were moving and my mind was busy, I could forget all that. I could even feel happy.

The caked on brown scum at the bottom of the pan was not coming off easily. I could tear it off in bits and chunks, but only by latching my nails onto it and pulling, lodging the brown filth underneath my fingernails. It was slow moving and frustrating. I heard Emy laugh just a little. How much easier, I thought, would this be if these people had invented scouring pads.

"Scrape it off with a pocket knife," she whispered, so Cook couldn't hear. "Bea will give you one. Just don't let Cook see. If it scratches the iron, she'll get mad."

I looked at the girl beside me. This was perhaps the first multi-word sentence I had heard from her. I whispered my own, quiet thanks and Emy just nodded.

I stood up and stretched and left the room on the premise of a bathroom break. Cook narrowed her eyebrows but didn't say anything. Even she couldn't object when someone needed to empty their bladder.

Bea wasn't in the dining room or behind the bar. She wasn't anywhere downstairs, so I figured that she must have gone upstairs to tidy up the rooms as she sometimes did. Sneaking upstairs required a bit more subtlety, since I had to tiptoe past the kitchen door again, while Cook was looking down at the stove, but I managed it without incident. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Emy shake her head in disbelief.

I quietly climbed the steps, anxious that Cook wouldn't hear me. At the top of the stairs I could hear voices. One I recognized as Bea's. The other, I didn't want to ever hear again.

I poked my head around the corner just a little bit, so I could just see what was going on. I could see the back of Bea's head. Her arms were on her hips as she looked at the girl in front of her. She didn't seem angry, exactly. Just wary.

The girl was calm. She wore different clothes, but I could recognize her all the same, by her freakish whiteness. Lara.

"I don't know how I feel about this, Lara," Bea was saying.

"I'm not asking you to force her to do anything. I just want you to hint that she should come back to us."

"I don't think that that's really my place."

"Look Bea, if you don't tell her to join us, she's just going to pick up all the gossip on the street about the maidens. And then she'll never trust us, ever. And you know what will happen then."

"But Lara, surely if you just spoke to her."

"She doesn't trust me. She trusts you."

"And you're asking me to betray that trust."

"For the good of everyone, Bea. So much depends on this."

"I just don't feel right playing with her like that."

Lara looked her straight in the eye and answered. "Sometimes you have to do what seems wrong to do something even better. You've seen what happens when you let fear get out of control."

"You want me to lie to her."

"Not lie. I just want you to tell her our side of the story. Is that so wrong?"

Bea sighed once. "I don't like it. But I'll do it. If you think it's really that important, I'll do it."

Lara smiled slowly. "That's all I ask."

For a few moments, I couldn't breathe. I had trusted Bea. And she would strike a deal with that demon, Lara. Bea, the woman I loved like a mother, would choose her over me.

The truth didn't register with me for a time. Their words seemed like white noise, while my brain tried to process what this meant. Finally, my rage came out of me in a choking sob, something like a cry, when what I really wanted was to scream so loudly, the walls would ripple and the air would tear around me.

Lara and Bea snapped to attention at the sound.

"Who's there?" Bea called, looking around wildly.

"It's just me," I answered softly.

When Bea saw my face and the tears forming in my eyes, her mouth opened and her eyes widened.

"Ella! Ella, what did you hear?"

"Enough."

"Please, wait, you just have to listen to me."

I stepped away from her as she pulled closer to me. "I trusted you. And you work for her. Don't you? You've always worked for her! I should have known." I was crying now. I could see Lara in the background. She had closed her eyes and lowered her head in shame.

"Ella. Ella, no. Lara's my friend, just like you are."

"I was never your friend! I was your puppet. I thought you cared about me."

I turned and started to run down the stairs. I didn't think about anything but leaving.

"Stop," Bea called, chasing me, but I didn't pause. The pounding of my feet on the stairs echoed through the room. When I burst into the dining room, I could feel the silence that followed us.

Bea caught up with me just before I reached the door. She grabbed my shoulder and tried to hold me back.

"Don't leave, Ella. Not like this."

"I'll leave when I want, Bea."

Bea grabbed a few rupees out of her pocket and jammed them into my hand. "Then take the money, at least. Don't go out there alone. The streets will eat you alive."

I knew the truth in her words, but my anger was too great for me to listen. "I don't want it," I told her, throwing the money on the floor. "I don't want anything to do with you or your lousy world."

I pulled her hand off my shoulder. Behind her, I could see Emy peeking out of the kitchen. She mouthed my name in confusion, and I felt a tiny pang of regret at my outburst. But my anger at the betrayal swallowed any objections I had.

I spun on the spot and slammed the door as I left. Nobody stopped me. I stormed through the streets for about five minutes. But then the worst part of rage showed its face. You can stay angry for a while, a few minutes, a few precious minutes where you know you're absolutely correct.

And then the fury fades, and regret sets in. When those few minutes were over and I cooled down a little, the fear came back, strong. I didn't know if I had wrecked my only hope of a friend in this world. I didn't know if I would ever find another one. Looking around, I saw that I didn't know where I was and I didn't know how to find my way back, even if I wanted to.

The street I was on looked pleasant enough. The houses were freshly painted, and I could see a family walking happily. I sighed in relief that I had stumbled into a safe neighborhood.

Thank God, I whispered in my head. I didn't know what to do if I found myself in some dark alleyway. I didn't even know what I'd find in there. My impression of a dangerous, dark alleyway consisted largely of vague, shadowy figures coming straight out of television shows.

I leaned against a nearby wall, breathing deeply and trying to gather my thoughts.

"Rupee for an old man?" I turned to see a figure sitting on the ground beside me. I hadn't noticed him, which was unsurprising. He was tiny, he seemed to sink into the ground. The dirt on his clothes was almost camouflaging. His clothes were messy, but his gray hair was short and his beard was neatly trimmed. Across his face was splayed a big nose and his eyes turned up in the center of his face.

"I've got nothing," I answered. "Tapped out."

"Ah well. It usually works pretty well." He shrugged.

"Funny," I replied, "This doesn't seem like a usual neighborhood for beggars." The second the words came out of my mouth, I realized how rude it sounded. In spite of the situation I blushed and looked down.

The man just laughed. "Most bums don't come here. I never understood that. Why ask for money from other bums? Beg from the rich, that's my motto. Makes me the richest bum around."

I smiled a little bit. "I think you're right. I'll keep that in mind. Seems to me like this is where I'm heading," I answered darkly.

"A life of begging? Really?"

"I don't have anywhere left."

"Ah, sorrows. We all have them. Well, sit down and we can swap a few." He stretched a little bit and gestured to the place beside him on the wall.

"I don't know…" He seemed nice and he didn't look dangerous, but I had always been taught not to trust strangers. Especially bums on the street.

"Would you feel more comfortable with a regular bum?"

I thought for a few seconds and nervously sat down, leaving about two feet of space between us, in case I needed to make a quick getaway.

"So, you're awfully young to be on the streets. Ran away?"

"Not exactly. Not from home anyway."

"Oh? Wait, let me guess before you tell me. You ran from… a bad apprenticeship?"

"In a sense."

"You miss your home?"

"Every day." He heard the sadness in his voice and nodded.

"And you don't think you can go back."

I nodded too, and sadly answered, "You're very good at this, you know?"

"It comes from experience. You know, when you carry a heavy burden, it helps to share it. Care to try?"

I looked at him and his wry expression. "You start."

He laughed again. "Never ask an old man his life story," he warned, "They never stop talking. And me, I've seen just about everything. War, peace, family, loneliness. Anything you've got, I've lived through it."

I paused for a moment, waiting for him to continue before a thought struck me. "You've lived a long time?"

"Seventy six years."

"Have you lived in this city long?"

"All my life."

"What do you know about the maidens?" I asked and his face darkened.

"That's a dangerous question, girl."

"You know something?"

"More than I'd like to."

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't need to know. I can't explain exactly, but it's very important."

The man looked at the ground for a moment and then sighed. "You seem desperate enough. I've never known an idle bystander to care so much about anything."

"Oh, please. I know we just met. Do you know something? Anything, really, that's all I need," I begged

He looked down, at the ground. "I've had experience with the maidens before. It was a long time ago, and I don't like to think about it."

I could see in the seriousness in his eyes. I couldn't help but wonder what memories were bouncing around his mind. Whatever sadness he had in his past, it was hurting him. Suddenly, I regretted pressing him for information.

"I don't want to hurt you," I began.

"It's nothing. Will it really help you?"

"More than anything you could guess."

"Alright. I can't say no to a pretty, young girl. It began about thirty years ago. I was younger then and I didn't know anything. I was acquainted with the then purple maiden."

"You were friends?"

"Something like that. For a while. Then life got in the way."

He closed his eyes and I thought that I saw tears coming from them. "What happened?" I asked quietly after a moment.

"There was a war. No, not exactly a war. A rebellion. The people took to the streets against the maidens."

"Why?"

"The maidens have an ancient duty, one most people don't understand."

I nodded rapidly. "I know. They guard the seal."

He looked up at me, confused. "That's right," he said slowly. "How did you know?—never mind. I don't want to know." He waved his hand at me. "A lot of people don't care to learn about the maidens, either. They don't trust them. There are always rumors about dark magic coming from that palace, and of slaves which the maidens create by bending the mortal mind to their will. Scary stories.

"Anyway, one day, the rumors… solidified. The people of the city finally had enough. They revolted. The maiden's council fled, throughout the kingdom. Most of them." He closed his eyes and his shoulders shook. Impulsively, I put my arm around him.

"It must have been hard to see the people turn against your friend. I know it's not easy to stand up to a crowd."

"No," he answered, "No it isn't. It's just so much easier to believe the rumors."

"I understand."

"No," he said, with real hate in his voice. "No you don't. I have innocent blood on my hands from that day." A pause. "I chose the wrong side."

For a moment, neither of us speaks as the truth washes over me. "You killed your friend, didn't you?"

"Not directly. I don't know who did the deed. But I might as well have. I could have saved her. I could have fought for her. But I didn't. A quarter of a century later and I still can't forgive myself." By now he was crying, and I hugged him.

"Why did you tell me this? I'm a total stranger."

"I told you, when you carry the same burden for years, sometimes it's nice to share it. I hope my poor story helped you."

"Do you know what exactly it is that the maidens keep sealed away?" My breathing was quicker now as I sensed the answers to some of my harder questions coming.

"I couldn't tell you, exactly. But I do know this. When the council split up and fled, strange disasters began to occur. Winds raged through villages and storms devastated the countryside. Most people accused the maidens of unleashing this magic. But I think differently. I think that whatever was inside the seal sensed their weakness and was trying to get out." He slumped defeated against the wall, as though all of the energy had evaporated from him.

I let him cry a little longer, before I asked the question that was really bothering me. "You called your friend innocent. Do you really believe that?"

"She was the purest soul I knew," he answered, sounding offended. Quickly, I tried to calm him down.

"I don't mean to accuse her of anything. All I mean is, did you trust the maidens then?"

"Yes."

"Would you trust the maidens now?"

"With all my heart."

"Thank you," I told him, "You helped me to make a big decision."

He looked into my eyes. "Really?"

"A very big one," I assured him. "And it will be for the best, I promise."

"I hope you're right, girl."

"I can't do much for you right now, but I can do this." I looked around for any people who might be listening before I whispered, "My name is Ella. It might not mean much right now, but someday soon it will mean a lot more."

He looked at me, the beginning of comprehension dawning in his eyes. "And," I continued, "if you take it to Bea, the innkeeper at a place called Eldicott, I guarantee you that it will get you a free meal, at least."

He smiled a little. "Thank you," he bowed low to the ground, "my lady."

I stood up to walk away, but he grabbed my skirt lightly. "Thank you for forgiving me."

I smiled sadly, feeling tears prick at my eyes, "Any time."

As I started to walk away he called to me one last time. "When you see Jeanne, tell her I love her."

I promised solemnly to do so, although I didn't know who Jeanne was. Somehow, I knew that I wouldn't forget my promise to the old beggar man. As I turned the corner away from him, I prayed that I would see him again, when I could help him more. Someday.

* * *

Ten minutes later I found myself in front of the one place I thought I would avoid for the rest of my life. The palace was taller than I had realized, and I had navigated the city simply by approaching its huge spires, which towered over the surrounding houses. I shook a little as I stood before it, but my mind was made up.

Slowly, trembling, I took my first steps towards the door.

* * *

And thus concludes the unusually long chapter 3. Part of me feels like I should have split it up, but then I would have felt like I was giving you two chapters that would be too short. Plus I didn't want to end another chapter with Ella storming away angry and upset. She seems to do that an awful lot.

Anyway, I hope that the rest of you were happy to see her be a little bit happier this chapter. I for one was glad to be able to write a few paragraphs with no crying involved. Hopefully we won't see that much depression again for a while. It's just so much nicer to write about happy people. (Maybe I should begin writing children's stories- those are usually filled with happy people, who are often happy for no apparent reason. Much nicer.)

Anyhow, as always, read, enjoy, review. You all know the drill.

Anyone else notice that every paragraph in this author's note has started with an A?

-Ornamental Reciprocity


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